


Most Loyal

by Kila9Nishika



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Evil Dumbledore, Final Battle, Lots of Other Canon Characters Mentioned, Loyalty, M/M, Starting Over
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 16:08:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kila9Nishika/pseuds/Kila9Nishika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron was given a task, and he carried it out. Now, Ron Weasley does not exist, just as Sirius Black and Remus Lupin and Harry Potter are all dead. Aren't they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Most Loyal

Ron moved his bishop diagonally four spaces, taking out Harry's rook, and waited. Harry was staring into space again; his green eyes the color of the Killing Curse.

Ron was used to this. Ever since Luna had died, Harry would lose focus at the most random moments. Combined with something that Ron deeply suspected was True Sight, the person that most people thought of as Harry was nearly gone.

"Harry?" Ron said cautiously. Harry looked up, his face pained.

"The Phoenix will fly, tomorrow," Harry said; his eyes distant. "The Phoenix will fly, and the Flame will carry away the Bairn."

Ron opened his mouth, and then closed it. This past year had taught him not to question when Harry said odd things. As Harry's eyes refocused, Ron mused on what had happened that had pulled apart the people they had once been.

Luna had mysteriously dropped dead in the middle of the Halloween feast last year. Neville had been killed by Bellatrix Lestrange. Ginny had been tortured into insanity by Rodulphus Lestrange. Hermione had drifted away, put off by Harry's Sight. While still on the side of the Light, Hermione would never be their best friend again.

"Ron?"

Ron jumped. Harry was looking at him with a solemn expression on his face.

"Yeah, Harry?" From the look on Harry's face, their plan of ignoring the upcoming battle was about to be thrown out the window.

Harry took a deep breath. "Do you know why Luna died?"

Ron dropped the pawn he'd been toying with. "Huh?"

Harry bit his lip. "I didn't just  _get_  the Sight when I turned sixteen, Ron. I was born with it. But when Dumbledore brought me to the Dursleys, he knew that he couldn't leave me there with the Sight, because I would know all about Hogwarts and magic, if he did. So he did a very dangerous and Dark ritual that transferred my Sight to someone else, someone who had a magical signature very close to mine. But magic can't be easily transferred from one person to the next, and the older I got, the more garbled the visions became. By the time fifteen years had passed, having another person's magic inside of her core had thoroughly warped through Luna's magic and mind. Exactly fifteen years after the transfer ritual, my magical core took back my Sight, destroying what Dumbledore had done. The stress was too great for Luna."

Ron gaped. "You mean – you mean  _Dumbledore_  killed Luna?"

Harry let his head fall to the table with a loud  _clunk_. "It was just a side-effect of his 'greater good,' what did one girl's death matter?" he mumbled, tears falling onto the chess board. Suddenly, he sat back up, flipping his hair out of his face. "Promise me something?"

Ron felt pinned by Harry's powerful gaze, and didn't hesitate for a moment. "Anything."

Harry didn't smile. "When the battle is over, I want nothing belonging to me to be left. Nothing. If my wand is left, take it. Anything that is mine would just be used as a marvel, something that belonged to the Boy-Who-Lived."

Ron felt his heart sink. Didn't Harry think he would live through the last battle? One look into Harry's eyes told him. No. He didn't.

Slowly, Ron licked his lips, and nodded. "I promise," he said. "On my magic do I swear."

Harry nodded, and moved his knight.

* * *

 

The battle ended with flame and thunder, scattering all of those fighting far from the center battle between Harry and Voldemort. The Death Eaters had broken through the Hogwarts wards, making it possible to Apparate in and out. Thus, the battle had ended up reaching its peak in the Great Hall.

When the battle ended, Ron slipped out of the place he had hidden himself. After taking all of the younger students to the top of the Gryffindor Tower, and helping them fly to the thestral station, where they would be taken to a safe house, Ron had returned to Hogwarts.

Wiping a bit of ash and sweat off of his face, Ron shifted Voldemort's body aside, and lifted up the holly wand that lay beside the pile of robes.

Carefully looking around, Ron leaned forward, and lifted the lump of empty, slightly shifted robes. Flicking a careful glance right, and then left, with a loud  _crack_ , Ron vanished.

* * *

 

_Dear Ron,_

_If you are reading this, then the battle is over, and you followed my instructions. Thank you._

_Have you ever heard of contact poisons? There is a potion on this paper that works similarly to a contact poison, but it is not a poison, obviously. The potion will age you, and will do something called a blood-adoption that will connect you to a muggle family that recently died in a car crash called the West family. The aging potion will hide you from the wizarding world, and the adoption will merely turn your eyes brown and possibly take your freckles. The main point of the adoption is so that magical documents and devices will officially recognize you as Ronald West, instead of Ronald Weasley._

_In a couple of days, call this number: (522) 4XX-XXXX. A man should answer, a man named Rom Black. He is a librarian. To ensure you are secure, ask if he has read the Chronicles of the Marauders. He should answer that, although he is a librarian, that is one book that is not complete, and he has not read it._

_Rom Black is living in a muggle house that I have secured for you, and anyone with you. I suggest that you remain a wizard in identity, and merely make up a foolproof story about why you are living in the muggle world. Rom should help you, and I think that you will recognize his pet dog._

_Again, Ron, thank you so much for doing this for me. I couldn't live if I thought that you were in danger from Dumbledore or the Ministry._

_Yours Truly,_

_Harry James Evans-Potter-Black_

* * *

 

Hermione Granger shifted nervously, and fixed her hat before setting out at a brisk walk from the alleyway she had Apparated into. She hated this job with a passion, but, being the Deputy Headmistress, this was one of her duties.

If only Professor McGonagall hadn't died during the War. Shaking herself, Hermione pushed such grim thoughts from her head. She was Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts, and Deputy Headmistress. Despite her previous friendship with the MIA felon, Ron Weasley, she had done rather well for herself.

As she approached 731, Blackacre Lane, she saw a young boy playing in the front yard with a large (enormous) black dog. The boy was tall and lanky, in the way that boys tend to be when they are unfinished with their growth spurts. He had wild hair that, at first glance, seemed black, but the sunlight revealed it to be the deepest red hair Hermione had ever seen.

On a return catch of the plate that the boy was tossing to his dog, wide green eyes caught sight of Hermione as she came up the walk.

The boy snatched the plate out of the air, and caught the dog by the scruff of his neck before turning towards the house.

"Da!" The boy ran into the house, the dog following. "Da, Rom, there's a lady coming!"

Hermione stopped by the slightly-swinging door to the house, and caught her breath. She was out of shape, Apparating everywhere.

A door creaked somewhere in the house, and a tall man with thick golden-brown hair pushed the front door the rest of the way open.

"Hello," he said. "My name is Rom Black, Jay's godfather. Won't you come in? Red will be down momentarily."

Hermione entered the house, and looked around cautiously. Many pictures hung on the walls, and as Rom led her into the sitting room, Hermione took a mental inventory of what she had seen.

Most of the pictures seemed to be of a young woman with dark red hair and brown eyes, and a man with light brown hair and green eyes. Occasionally, the couple in the picture was accompanied by a man with brown eyes and red-and-white hair, and a baby.

"That's my daughter."

Hermione jumped, and turned in her seat on the sofa to see a thin man with white hair and dark brown eyes. His hair had the faintest streaks of red, revealing why Rom had called the man "Red."

"Are you Jay West's father?" Hermione got straight to the point. She was here to explain Hogwarts to Jay West and family.

Red smiled faintly. "No. I am his grandfather. Jay's father has been dead since he was a year old."

Hermione blinked. "But… he called you Da."

"That I did," said a young voice. From the doorway opposite the one Hermione had used, Jay West entered the room.

His resemblance to his grandfather was easily seen – it was in the way he stood, in his deep-set green eyes, in the nearly-black red hair that was swept away from his face in the exact same manner as Red's hair was.

Beside the boy was the large black dog he had been playing with, and sounds from the kitchen insinuated that Rom was in there.

Jay smiled. "I've always called Da, 'Da.' According to Rom; I called my father 'Pa.' When my parents died, I was lucky to be taken in by my Da, and Rom stays here with us because of Da's bad leg."

Hermione scolded herself. She hadn't even noticed that Red was holding a cane!

"So," Hermione began, taking a (well-deserved) breath, "I am here to explain about the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is not, as you may have thought, a joke, but –"

"Oh, I know that." Jay pushed his hair out of his face. "Da 'splained it."

Hermione's eyes widened. "I was under the impression that this was a muggle household."

Red winced. "Please don't use that word in this house. Non-magical will work just fine. No, I went to Hogwarts, back in the day. One Head Boy who stands out in my memory is a Tom, Tom Riddle, I think it was. Lia was a Squib, and Harris was an Auror. They died in the last War, and I took Jay with me and left the wizarding world. There is nothing left for me there. But for Jay…" he shook his head. "Perhaps for a young boy, there will be beauty in a world where I only see blood."

Hermione frowned. "Is… what is his name, Rom? Is Rom a wizard as well?"

Red snorted. "Rom is not a wizard. Rom is a librarian. His parents were both magical, though."

After explaining a bit more about Hogwarts to the dark-haired eleven-year-old, Hermione stood to leave.

"Well," she said, "I'll see you on the First, Mr. West."

Jay smiled, and nodded, before scampering out of the room. Hermione turned to Red. "Would you like me to take him to get his things, or can you do that yourself?"

Red smiled, his eyes tired. "Rom and I can take Jay there. It was good meeting you, Professor Granger."

Hermione smiled, and Apparated away.

* * *

 

_Dear Da, Rom, and Sirius,_

_I got Sorted into Ravenclaw! I think that the Sorting Hat was laughing at me, though, because he kept snickering the whole time I asked to be put in Ravenclaw._

_Da, did you know that you're a MIA felon? Apparently, you are in trouble for stealing the remains of the Great Harry Potter. (Snort.)_

_Rom, you are listed as having died in 1997. Da, I've only gotten up to 1993, so you'll have to explain how it is that Rom is supposedly dead._

_Sirius, why did you never tell me that you're famous? By the way, did you know that you have your own Chocolate Frog Card, for being the first person to you-know-what?_

_I promise that I'm working really hard in Transfiguration, and I should be able to figure out the problem with Sirius by next year._

_As for my teachers – Potions is awful, Professor Snape seems to take my ability to answer questions correctly, personally. Herbology is boring. History of Magic is, as you all said, nap time. The Defense Professor is a woman named Tonks. I don't know her first name; it's a secret. (Supposedly, if you can beat her in a duel, you get to find out. I'm going to do it!)_

_My favorite teacher doesn't even teach me yet – her name is Professor Ollivander. Her hair is all white and down to the floor, and her eyes are white also. She wears white as well, and Jessica Weasley tried to poke her one day in the corridor, because she looks like a ghost. Professor Ollivander says that she is in mourning for those who felt the need to die although they continue to live. Is she insinuating something, Da, Rom?_

_Anyway, I can't wait for flying lessons! According to what you've told me, I should be good! I can't wait!_

_I've not really made friends with anyone, because most people are rather boring, but Lillian Malfoy is a really shy girl who I am trying to convince to be friends with me. She's afraid of me, because everyone makes fun of her for being the daughter of a Death Eater. Her mother is in Azkaban, but her father was never a Death Eater, despite what people said. He even took Veritaserum, and named Lily after Harry Potter's mum._

_Lillian is in Gryffindor and I hope she makes at least one friend in that crazy place._

_Did you know that there are two Gryffindor ghosts? One is Nearly-Headless-Nick, but the other one keeps following me around. Her name is Ginny, do you know her? She keeps going on and on about how I look like "her Harry." Do you have any suggestions on how to shut her up?_

_I'll keep writing,_

_James Harris West_

Red set the letter on the table, and looked across it at the two men who shared their lives and house. "So, what do you think? Is he happy, or does he just not want me to know?"

Rom shrugged. "I don't know. It is funny to hear him referring to himself and us in third person."

The dark-haired man beside him rolled his eyes. "Uh-huh,  _Remus_. Just because you two both changed your identities…"

Rom shook his head. "I really am Rom now, not Remus, just like Ronald is well and truly Red West. And Harry, he's…"

All three of them turned to face a photograph, the only wizarding photo in the house. Leaning against the frame, one arm slung around a young Ron Weasley's shoulders, was the late Harry Potter. Beside the photo, a muggle school picture of Jay sat proudly beside an award for a poem.

Sirius stood. "Rom, if we want any time, we'd best do it now. The moon will set soon, and I'll be back stuck as a dog again."

Rom nodded, and took Sirius' hand, leaving Red to smile at the letter.

Standing up himself, Red shouted after the two "younger" men, "Don't forget a Silencing Charm!"

A laugh was his answer.

Turning in the opposite direction from where Rom and Sirius had gone, Red walked into the cellar where the wizarding things were kept. Opening a trunk, he pulled out a silvery piece of cloth, and a long, smooth rod of holly. Setting them aside, Red pulled out a velvet-covered photo album, and began to flip through it.

The first photo was one of Lily and James Potter, holding baby Harry, followed by photos of Sirius, Remus, and other Hogwarts acquaintances of Harry's parents.

Page after page, Ron watched the moving photos as Harry grew up, and went through year after year at Hogwarts. The last page, although it felt as if it had a picture in it, was mysteriously blank. Red brushed his fingers across the empty page, and jumped when a picture melted into place in the center of the page.

"It's me," he breathed, staring at the old photo of a seventeen-year-old redhead sleeping on a sofa in the Gryffindor Common Room. Suddenly, Red noticed words scrawled across the bottom of the page in Harry's cramped handwriting.

_This is Ron Weasley, on his seventeenth birthday. He said he was going to stay up until he turned seventeen, but he fell asleep!_

In a different colored ink, something else was written at the bottom of the page.

_He is my Most Loyal_.

**FIN**

**Author's Note:**

> If there is any confusion, going through the Veil made Sirius stuck as a dog by day, and capable of being a human by night. He has the option of being a dog all the time, though.


End file.
